Running to Stand Still
by Tearless Sonnet
Summary: The world stops but you're still spinning. "It's going to be okay," he says. And you look into his eyes and see everything in them: love, hope, and sorrow. You smile and say, "I know," because you know your eyes are reflecting the same things, too.
1. The Alice Kingdom

**Disclaimer****:** Sadly, I do not own Gakuen Alice, the Country of Ōto, and the line Natsume says to the guard (that was from cyropi's Fallen). But hey, I just realized, I do own someone—Cook! He's not in this chapter, but be assured, he _will_ appear. This plot is loosely based on Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle.

**Written by****:** Tearless Sonnet

**Special Thanks to****:** PaCho de Nacho for the great title and song suggestions. If I hadn't asked for your amazing help, I wouldn't have written this at all! Thank you!

**Running to Stand Still**

Dedicated to:

_Madeleine Mason_

**You know me more than I know myself, and I don't mean that in 'stalker-ish' ways. **

"_Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore." – Andre Gide_

_-Tearless Sonnet-_

**Chapter I – The Kingdom of Alice**

Natsume cupped a handful of water and drank thirstily, wiping his sweaty forehead with what was left of the cool water. He scowled at the empty canteen and threw it unceremoniously onto the dry sand, instead looking back at the blueprints on the scarred table in front of him. The bright sun overhead shone unpleasantly and the heat was never more scorching. The raven-haired man sat stiffly in his seat, calculating the blueprints for the nth time.

"Dammit," he muttered to himself, scanning the blueprints with a frown on his face. Obviously, whatever the blueprints showed displeased him. Abandoning his rigid posture, he slumped in his chair, rubbing his temples in stress.

"Things not going as planned, I see." Natsume looked up to see a sandy haired man with slits for eyes grinning at him cheekily. Kitsunume took a seat in front of him and casually tossed him a loaf of bread. Natsume caught it easily and set it aside for later.

"Hell yeah," he said gruffly. He shoved the papers roughly into the other man's hands. "See for yourself." He waited patiently for the other's reaction; Kitsunume's eyebrows creased and his lopsided grin grew into a frown the more he stared insistently at the documents.

"Ah," he said, frowning at the piece of paper without looking up. "You're right. This isn't exactly good news. A huge cave-in by the left branch is never good news, even by my standards. That means it'll take. . .?"

"Around a week to excavate the left wing and probably three more to unearth the rest of the ruins," Natsume replied sourly. He took a bite of the bread and scowled at the blueprint as if it was its fault he wasn't making faster progress. "And there isn't any other way to get through the left wing other than bulldozing our way through, which might jeopardize our chances of getting in if we accidentally take down something that might lead to another, bigger cave-in. Then there's also the precautious way, digging it out by hand, but that's a much slower method. It'll take about a week, working nonstop to clear it out." Natsume grunted, feeling very unhappy with the way things were working out. Kitsunume, apparently not paying any attention to Natsume's explanation, suddenly smirked.

"You mean you don't count _this_ as a way to get through without bulldozing and tough shoveling?" Kitsunume said with an air of triumph as he gestured to an area in the blueprints. "Are you telling me you _didn't_ see this little hidden route near the north wing?" Kitsunume said in mock surprise. Natsume frowned, feeling very nonplussed and grumpy at having not seen this so-called 'way' after careful examination of the proposal. Natsume held out his hand.

"What way?" he said impatiently, "Let me see that." Kitsunume complied, placing the papers into Natsume's hands with a smug look on his face. Natsume unrolled the papers forcefully, staring at the outline again. The more he stared, the more pronounced the scowl playing on his face grew. "What the hell are you talking about? I don't see no 'way'?" he said scornfully. Kitsunume raised an eyebrow and jabbed at a spot on the blueprints. Natsume studied the place he had pointed out for a while, as if refusing to believe Kitsunume was right, and released a heavy sigh—a sigh of defeat. Natsume Hyuuga never liked being wrong.

"Do you see it now?" Kitsunume said mockingly. Natsume glared at him and grudgingly nodded. Kitsunume leaned back into his seat leisurely and folded his arms. "And there—BAM—is your fairy dust. A secret passageway revealed by moi." Kitsunume finished with a clap of his hands for emphasis. Natsume rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. The fairy godmother come to take me to the ball," he said sarcastically. Kitsunume grinned.

"Yeah, glad you got the gist of it, Cinderella," he said teasingly, and hoisted himself up from the table, "Now that I see my work is done here, I gotta go and check out what in blazes Takimoto is calling me for. Says he found an ancient artifact," at this, Natsume let out a snort, "Yep, you got it. I, for one, think he found an 'ancient artifact' all right. . ." Kitsunume smirked, "Ancient crap. Well, anyway, you better finish that bread—it's the last you'll be getting today. Rations are low," Kitsunume said, slightly vexed, "We'll have to get back to the Kingdom to replenish our stocks in a day or two."

Natsume watched sullenly as Kitsunume stalked off in the opposite direction and disappeared after he turned a corner whilst humming a strange tune. He glanced back at the blueprints looking very tired and stood up, snatching his dark maroon cloak that hung over the back of his chair and draping it over his shoulders carelessly. Natsume rolled up the blueprints and strode off towards the large ruins sunk deep into the sand.

A gigantic monument lay almost completely submerged into the ground, with only the tip of the huge structure standing out from the depths of sand. The large ruins were intricately shaped, a massive dome-like top with explicit carvings of an unknown language that he could not interpret, nor identify. Natsume thought it similar to a mammoth cathedral, or an arena.

A strong wind swept past ungraciously, and Natsume, with a grim expression on his face, clenched his cloak tighter around himself and drew the hood over his head. Specks of dust floated around in midair, some getting into his eyes rather painfully. But this was not uncommon in places like these, where dust and sand dominated over land and sea.

The Alice Kingdom was a peaceful place, with friendly people and beautiful scenery. Though in the midst of a country of sand, they used the little resources they had for the improvement of their country. People lived in modest, small houses built on top of rock plated onto the sand for a firm foundation. The serene kingdom was ruled well by the king and queen, in addition to their young daughter. However, the great ruins the country was very well known for were dangerous to excavate. Natsume and his father first came to the country when he himself was very young, at the age of seven. His father, Satoshi Hyuuga, started the excavation that very well lead to the loss of his life. Though thoroughly depressed at the death of his father, Natsume continued the work that Satoshi would have wanted finished—the unearthing of the Alice Ruins.

Natsume ambled towards the large ruins where the dig had finally come close to completing after so many years. Up close, the gigantic ruins looked bigger than ever. Cracks and dust were embedded into the large structure, almost looking as if it would collapse under the harsh winds and sand. It very well might have, but under the unyielding protection Natsume and his crew provided, there was no way it would subside so soon. Natsume took a lamp replenished with oil and proceeded to climb down a rickety wooden ladder leading into the many hazardous and dark tunnels leading deeper into the ruins.

The lower he descended down the ladder, the darker it grew. If he hadn't had a lamp with him at the time, he wouldn't have been able to see his own hand in front of him. Reaching the end, Natsume jumped and landed smoothly onto the ground. He barely glanced at his surroundings, staring at the blueprints to confirm where this passageway was. And then, he walked. It looked like a maze. Left and right, right and left; one not familiar with these passageways would almost certainly perish, unknowingly lost in the labyrinth of different channels. But Natsume, who had spent more than several years amidst the history and culture rooted deep into every nook and cranny of the ruins, knew the way like the back of his hand, with the map of the structure and the compass his father left him only for precautions if he might ever forget the way, doubtless so it seemed.

Left, right, left, left, right. If it were somebody else, the way would have been impossible to remember. Right, left, right, left, left again. But finally, Natsume stopped in front of a long and narrow corridor shrouded in dust and the unknown. He bit his lip, the temptation to risk it all and creep down the passageway was very appealing, but he knew many would worry if he didn't come back in a few hours. He was only here to confirm the passage, after all. Exploration could wait until they got more rations again.

Reluctantly, Natsume walked back through the many complex tunnels and burrows, greeted soundly by the light and stimulating air above. He set down the old rusty lamp, which had gone out the moment he stepped out of the ruins, and gazed up at the bright orange sky at sunset. _Nearly night time_, he mused, and retreated back into his tent for an early tuck-in after a good day's work.

*

"Ouch!" Mikan cried, staring bleakly at the trickle of blood on her thumb. Laying down her needle and thread in her sewing basket, she stood up to go to the washroom and rinse off the blood as best she could. The area around the wound had already turned a faint pink and stung a little when she doused it with water and wrapped it tenderly in bandages. She stared proudly at her work, and though she wasn't the medical wizard herself, she thought it very good for her first try. From watching attentively when her maids attended to her wounds, she had learned how to take care of herself, though had not tried it out until now. Wounding herself just to test out her new bandaging skills was foolish, and even before she could wash the blood off yet, her attendants would beat her to it, no problem. At the thought of this, Mikan glanced to and fro as if any of her servants would suddenly pop out of nowhere, scolding her for not letting them take care of her injury.

Mikan walked back to her room and picked up the lovely white handkerchief she had been embroidering. She stared at it dejectedly; the so-called 'flowers' she had intended to stitch looked horribly disfigured, and with the recent pricking of her finger, tiny stains of blood tainted the otherwise clean white handkerchief.

"Princess?" A soft knock on the door nevertheless resounded through the large empty room. Mikan looked over her shoulder at the door nervously and shoved the handkerchief under her pillow, taking out an almost identical one whose flowers looked completely recognizable from her cabinet drawer. It was plainly obvious that it was not she whom had sewn that.

"C-come in!" she called, hastily fixing her position from an Indian sit to what her attendants called a 'proper posture and sitting position as to etiquette'. The door opened and one of her servants, a young woman with a long blond braid draped down her back, appeared by the door.

"Princess, her most royal majesty calls for your attendance at the dining hall," she said, bowing respectively. Mikan nodded and purposely hid her injured finger behind her back.

"For supper, I suppose?" she asked knowingly, without really expecting an answer from the maid. As expected of, the young woman remained silent and departed from the room subsequent to a low bow. Mikan sighed in relief and was finally able to move her hand freely without constraint. She stood up and went to her dresser, where she removed a pair of silk gloves and slipped them on, to hide the bandaged finger. Dusting off imaginary dust on her dress, she stared at herself in the mirror blandly, and then turned to exit through the door.

Mikan departed from her room and set off down the hall to where the dining area was. The long hall was bedecked with portraits of the kings and queens that ruled the Kingdom of Alice during the past generations. Mikan stared at a particularly daunting portrait of the _Queen Miyazuki Sato,_ the twelfth queen of the kingdom, whose protruding nose looked much too big for her face. Then there was also the framed portrait of the _King Takaheshi Morinozuka, _the ninth king particularly known for his shaggy mustache and feeding the servants who displeased him to his pet snake, Gertrude. Mikan cringed at this portrait, as she had learned things from her lessons about King Morinozuka that she could do very well without.

Walking too fast in haste to pass the portrait, Mikan very nearly slipped on the polished marble floor. Thankfully, a small ledge by a wall was available for consistency, and Mikan grasped it desperately before her royal bottom hit the ground. She looked around apprehensively, hoping no one saw that disgraceful fall. Relieved when she saw the entire corridor empty, Mikan sighed and continued on her way.

Large, heavy wooden doors guarded the entrance to the dining room. Mikan grasped the silver knocker and rapped the door with it sharply. A deep voice called from the inside, "Enter!" Mikan rolled her eyes. Her father knew very well that it was her behind the door, but how he enjoyed being professional and what he called 'kingy'. Mikan pushed open the door with slight difficulty and curtsied once she entered the room.

"Mama, Papa," she said jadedly. The dining area looked more like a banquet hall with a long marble table stretching from one wall to the other, complete with ornate cushioned chairs, gold dishes, silverware, and highly polished goblets encrusted with the Alice coat of arms. His highness King Izumi Sakura and her highness Queen Yuka Sakura sat majestically on their thrones, smiling down at their daughter. Mikan gave them a bland smile and was seated by a maid right across the long table from her parents. The distance was somehow tense-inducing.

"Mikan!" King Izumi bellowed happily, "How's my little princess?" Mikan smiled at him in return as she gracefully ate her olive.

"Very good, Papa," she said simply. The queen raised her eyebrow.

"How's your embroidery going, Mikan?" she asked, almost as if she knew of what had happened. Involuntarily, Mikan's bandaged finger twitched slightly, which went unnoticed by Queen Yuka, "Why, my dear, are you wearing gloves at dinner? You wouldn't want to spoil that lovely pair," she said skeptically. Mikan froze for a second, at a loss for what to do.

"But, Mama. These gloves are an old pair, and I—uh, I. . . don't want my hands to get dirtied!" she said breathlessly, thinking up an excuse at the last minute. Yuka smiled.

"I'm glad you're so concerned about your well-being and hygiene, darling, but it would be impolite and very unladylike to eat with your gloves on in the presence of people whom you are very close to." Mikan found this very ironic, in both ways— figuratively and literally. Mikan reluctantly removed one of her gloves, knowing the jig was up. She stared moodily at her other glove, as her mother watched expectantly. And then the brunette released an inaudible sigh and removed the other pair. At first, all was quiet. And then, mother dearest spoke.

"What, I may ask, happened to your finger?" she said quietly, although the question nonetheless was heard by everyone in the room. The maids looked fearful as they stared at her bandaged finger, and Mikan couldn't help but think in her mind, _'What the hell is wrong with all you people? It's just a little cut.'_ She shrugged a bit and took a small dainty bite of her milk tart.

"I pricked myself on a needle while I was sewing," she said frankly. The queen folded her napkin on her lap and gave her a scrutinizing glance. And again, Mikan couldn't help wondering if she was cursed as a little girl and would fall fast asleep had she only stepped within a five meter radius of a spinning wheel. _But did needles count?_ she wondered skeptically, lost in her fairy tale fantasies.

"Mikan," a stern voice called. Getting her head out of the clouds, Mikan looked at her father inquiringly, "You're sixteen as of the moment, are you not?" She felt glad the subject of her injured finger had moved on, though her mother stared at the bandaged thumb with pursed lips. She nodded, confirming the question.

"Yes, Papa." she replied politely. King Izumi beamed.

"Very good, very good!" he called jovially, "Your dear old dad's got some news for you, hun!" he leant in forward dramatically, though it made no difference to the length of their distance, "You are. . ." he said conspiratorially, "you . . .are. . ." Mikan held her breath, wondering what 'she was'.

"You are. . ."

*

A muffled sob escaped Mikan's lips as she buried her face into her already damp pillow. _Married_, she thought bitterly. _I'm going to get married to some snobby prince at the age of sixteen. Now isn't that dandy? _The brunette sat up and stared at herself from across her vanity mirror and cringed at the sight; hair like she had just been through a storm, red puffy eyes, and an equally red, snotty nose. _I look like a wreck,_ she thought to herself as she turned to wash her face off with cold water from the basin. Mopping her face and the last of her tears away, she looked back at the mirror. _A little better now_, she thought calmly, brushing her long brown locks.

But her mind and heart wouldn't accept the fact that she would be marrying some princey-guy she didn't even know. _Screw it all,_ she thought grumpily. _I'll just run away to some far off place and survive on blueberries and pure water from the stream. Then I'll make friends with all the animals in the forest and wait for my _true_ prince to come and rescue me._

How cliché. _You're not Snow White_, she told herself reprimandingly, _get your head out of the clouds!_ Huffing indignantly, she pulled out a worn iron key that hung on a string tied around her neck and inserted it into the keyhole of her drawer. With a little effort, she managed to twist the rusty old key into the lock and successfully opened the drawer. Inside lay an old brown notebook and pencil that contrasted terribly with her beautifully furnished room. She took them out lovingly and jumped onto her bed (what her mother would say if she had seen that!) and rolled flat on her stomach.

Flipping to a blank page, she wrote:

_March 29_

_Mama is being more uptight than usual today. She and Papa said I was getting married to some snobby prince called Viktor What's-His-Name from the kingdom of Valer. Yuck. Viktor of Valer. Double yuck. I think I'm not going to write anymore because just thinking of my marriage to Viktor of Valer (yuck) is getting me down spirited. I'm going to bed. Goodnight. _

_Mikan_

*

Natsume growled as he kicked a can violently into the gutter. Today was just not his day. His entire crew had retreated into the kingdom like they were on some damn vacation when they were only here to get rations and reinforcements. Walking through the crowded streets of the Alice Kingdom in a bad mood, he didn't bother to apologize whether he bumped into passerby or not. After all, apologizing just wasn't Natsume's _thing_.

"Oi! Hyuuga!" a voice called through the denseness of the crowd. Natsume paused for a split second before walking on again, "Hyuuga!" the voice called more urgently. Hearing the squeals and shouts of surprise and annoyance, he could tell that this person was busily pushing his way through the crowd to catch up to him.

Breathing in and out deeply, Kitsunume glared at Natsume through his narrowed eyes, "God! Can't stop a moment to talk, can you, you busybody?" Natsume rolled his eyes and strode forward. Kitsunume, in difficulty, tried to keep up with Natsume's quick pace, and in the process, nearly falling into a clump of bushes.

"Idiot," Natsume said nonchalantly as he expertly wove through the crowd, Kitsunume lagging in each step.

"Says the guy who couldn't find another way into the—_sheesh_, fine! No need to get all hoity-toity on me now, Sir Glares-a-lot," Kitsunume said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Natsume rolled his eyes before giving him an expectant look. Kitsunume raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Rations," Natsume reminded him crossly, "Tools. Did you get them already or do I have to do everything myself?" Kitsunume grinned.

"I got them, no sweat. But, hey, we've gotta meet the king and queen this afternoon." Natsume, who didn't look like he was paying attention in the slightest, suddenly turned to him sharply.

"What?" he said abruptly, "Why?"

Kitsunume looked at him in exasperation, "They want to know how much progress we're doing, Natsume. Duh." The raven-haired boy glared at him before suddenly turning around a corner. Kitsunume jogged over to him, with a cheeky grin on his face, "Anyway, that's until later. Why don't we go into one of those pubs? I've been longing for some good beer and women lately." Kitsunume said, grinning slyly. Natsume looked at him in disgust.

"You're sick." he said, before smirking at him wickedly, "When you hurl after some stupid hangover tomorrow morning, tell me. That'd be one real good story to tell the crew."

*

The Alice square was a lively place, teeming with people alike. As it was popular, it was also noisy, with merchants selling their merchandise, the music the entertainers were dancing to, encouraged by shouts of approval from the audience, the screams of laughter of children running amok, and the cawing of crows and other birds as they flew down to be greeted with people sprinkling around bread crumbs for them to eat. A large fountain of a beautiful mermaid in a pond littered by many Sakura petals stood in the center of the square, her majestic head looking down upon the merchants and people, upon entertainers dancing and singing, and upon one raven-haired man looking extremely angry.

A red-haired girl selling an curious array of goods approached him, hoping for business. "Good sir!" the young girl cried, amazed by how good-looking the man was, blushed a ripe red as Natsume glanced at her for a split second, "I've got many a things for you to purchase here in my basket. What say you, young gentleman?" Ignoring the girl, Natsume glanced up at the sky anxiously.

"Good s-sir!" the girl squealed in surprise, her long braids quivering slightly, "I-I—" Natsume abruptly stood up from the ledge by the fountain and barked angrily, "You're damn late!" The poor girl jumped in fright, scurrying away to make her fortune elsewhere.

Kitsunume approached him with a sheepish grin on his face, accompanied by his best friend, Kokoro Yome. Koko looked exactly like Kitsunume, with dirty blond hair, a lean figure, yet his eyes were wide open. However, a permanent-looking grin plastered on his face contrastingly complimented Kitsunume's slanted eyes.

Kitsunume and Koko loomed closer to Natsume reluctantly, as if they'd rather be anywhere else than there, facing the young man's wrath. Natsume tapped his foot impatiently on the cold street pavement as they stopped in front of him, fidgeting nervously.

"About damn time!" he growled furiously. Kitsunume and Koko exchanged anxious glances at each other, "Do you know how damn long I had to wait in the damn square?! It was fucking hot, dammit! You were supposed to be here a damn hour ago! Damn you!" he finished, taking a deep breath after a whole lot of colorful vocabulary. Koko grinned and clapped Natsume on the back.

"Chill-_ax_, man," he said, promptly ignoring Natsume's glare, "Sorry, but, eh. . . Kitsunume here had a little stop-off at the toilet, if you know what I mean." He threw a smirk at his doppelganger, who scowled at him accusingly. Natsume glowered at Kitsunume, his fits clenched tightly. Kitsunume laughed nervously, scratching his head.

"Yeah, well. . . if you gotta go, you gotta go, right? _Right_, Natsume, ol' buddy, ol' pal o' mine?" Kitsunume said, refusing to stare into Natsume's cold red eyes and playing with the unraveled thread of his trousers. Natsume groaned, raking his hair with his hand. Why the hell did he hire those two anyway? Oh, right. Because they could work without giving a damn.

Natsume sharply turned, walking forward at an alarming pace. Kitsunume and Koko jogged frantically to keep up with him. "Yo! Slow down!" Kitsunume called, "We're not supposed to be at the palace until two anyway! What's the rush?" At this, Natsume stopped abruptly, turning to look at the twins with an aura that spelt M-U-R-D-E-R. The two boys grinned nervously at him, and Kitsunume laughed.

"Eh, guess I forgot to tell you that, didn't I? Heh, heh. But all's well that ends well, right? Natsume? Natsume?!" Kitsunume said alarmingly as Natsume stalked towards him with an ugly expression on his face.

Natsume's fist came flying out of nowhere to meet Kitsunume's face. . . and stopped a hair's breath from landing a blow that would no doubt knock the poor boy's teeth out. The raven-haired man smirked devilishly, and then hit him lightly on the forehead, "Stupid," he said, before turning away, hands in his pockets, and strode off. Kitsunume and Koko followed, jeering and laughing the whole way there.

"What time is it?" Koko asked, and Kitsunume turned to look at the tall tower clock nearby the central square. The clock was huge and looked old, it's distinct appearance giving it a historical aura; it's face had all the usual numbers from one to twelve, and two hands, one smaller than the other, pointing at the numbers one and six. One thirty. The clock, by far, stood out amongst the sea of small houses.

"Half past one," Kitsunume replied, and then turned to call out to Natsume, who was determined to look as if he didn't know those two, "Hey, Natsume! It's half past one! There's still time left! Let's hit the bar, man!" Natsume paid no heed to his attempts and did not answer. Kitsunume groaned irritably, "Such a sourpuss. . . doesn't know how to have fun. . ." Natsume, with his sharp hearing even through the din of the throng, grinded his teeth together. They just couldn't keep their mouths shut, could they?

"Where are we going anyway?" Koko queried. They had been walking aimlessly around the kingdom for the past few minutes now. Were they going to the castle early or something? Koko nearly tripped over a loose rock, and though he was surprised, the smile glued to his face never wavered. Righting himself up, he grinned mischievously.

"Hey, Natsu-Natsu!" Kitsunume and Koko called in unison. Natsume swiveled around at once and glared at them.

"_Do not call me that_," he said darkly. The two gave an involuntary shudder, backing away from the boy as he continued to walk on as if nothing happened.

"Scary. . ." Kitsunume mumbled to himself devastatingly, almost falling into another clump of bushes. Thankfully, Koko stopped him just in time.

"Oi, Natsume!" Koko called, "Where are we going anyway?" Natsume glanced at him from over his shoulder disdainfully.

"The palace, you idiots. It doesn't matter if we're early or not." he said rudely, kicking another can out of his path, "And we might as well go right now. Since the possibility of going to a damn pub is zero." Koko and Kitsunume groaned unhappily, reduced to following Natsume to the palace unwillingly.

"What are we gonna tell the king and queen?" Koko asked, not really paying attention as he played with a bright red spinning top he had gotten out of his pocket.

"You're still playing with that? You're such a kid," Natsume said mockingly. "And we're telling them about how the uncovering of the ruins is going, of course. About that passageway and everything. And how it'll take at least. . ." he mulled over the thought for a while and said, "a week. One week to finally uncover the whole thing." Koko nodded absently, tossing the top from one hand to the other.

"C'mon." Natsume said blandly, gesturing to them with his hand without bothering to look over. The trio managed to pass the town square, through the crowd of different people, and out into the open streets. The air was nice and warm, now and then a cool breeze swept past the three young men as they made their way to the home of the king and queen of the Alice Kingdom.

A cart laden with straw drawn by a rouge horse with foam already dribbling in its mouth rattled past them, not a passenger or rider in sight. The horse thrashed and lashed out violently, shaking the wrought cart brutally. People hurried to get out of its way, with expressions of fear and terror etched onto each one of their faces. Natsume Hyuuga watched the scene with blatant indifference, and one never knew what he was thinking.

Natsume only had one choice to make: tame the damn horse so they could move on to the castle or get trampled on by that same horse and never get to unearth the ruins. Obviously, he took the first choice.

He grimaced and expertly jumped onto the horse, pulling onto it's reins to stop it. The horse didn't succumb too easily. It thrashed and shook violently to try and throw Natsume off. With a scowl portrayed on his face at the horse's wild antics, he pulled tightly on the reins and tried to calm down the feral horse. The horse ran into everything, almost running over a little girl had not Natsume feverishly pulled the reins and maneuvered it to turn past her unwillingly. It reared it's hind legs and Natsume rose along with it into the air. Gripping the reins tightly and his feet tucked firmly into the horse's sides, Natsume made sure he was not going to fall off anytime soon.

Koko and Kitsunume watched the scene with unbelieving eyes and open mouths. Apparently, they were too caught up in the shock to help their friend out. Who knew Natsume would go out of his way to rescue some townsfolk by calming the rogue horse? Natsume begged to differ. He wasn't doing this for anybody but himself. He had to get to the palace, the sooner the better. And then he could get back to uncovering the ruins as quickly as possible and check out that passageway. Yes, Natsume didn't do anything for anyone if he couldn't gain anything from it himself.

The horse neighed loudly, again trying to throw its unwelcome rider of its back. Natsume leaned in, gripping the reins tightly and trying to calm down the horse. Where the hell was its original rider? Natsume cursed to himself sullenly. He really couldn't trust anyone else other than himself, could he? After all, only he could live up to his own standards. Natsume tugged viciously onto the reins, and the horse, finding that resisting was futile, did not protest. Natsume had a smugly satisfied look on his face as he slid down the horse as if it was nothing.

The watching people surrounded him with cheers of acclaim and gratitude, but he turned a blind eye upon them all and sent Koko and Kitsunume a look that seemed to say 'Now-that's-all-over-let's-get-going-already'. The two sandy-haired males fixed their facial expressions, Kitsunume closing his mouth and Koko reverting back to his usual smiley face. They trudged over to the Natsume, who, after seeing the two, promptly walked forward.

The weather was unusually warm that day, and Natsume felt himself sweat under the heat of the blistering sun. The two others tailing him felt the same. The passed street after street, where fewer commoners strolled around, which they thought was rather stupid. Why would anyone want to come out and cook in the sun like burnt, shriveled bacon? Oh wait, there was the fact that _they_ were outside as well.

He knew they should have taken a carriage or something, anything, to get out of walking under the terrifyingly hot weather, but Natsume was not fond of taking that jolting, trembling little mode of transportation. It made him sick just to think about it. How nauseous. Scowling threateningly at anyone who dared to look at him, speak to him, heck, _breathed his air_, he'd make sure to send that person to somewhere far worse than hell. Koko and Kitsunume, aware of the aggravating mood he was in, kept their distance warily.

Fortunately, the home of the Sakura family wasn't too far away now. The three boys jumped across a ditch in their path and proceeded down the lane leading to a splendid castle, complete with tall turrets and even a moat. _What the hell_, Natsume thought critically, _was this some kind of fairytale castle taken out from those stupid story books?_ Obviously, Natsume Hyuuga did not believe in fairytales of any kind, the git.

Sentries stood guard by the castle gates, tall iron bars with nasty-looking sharp edges at the top, and they were called in to be questioned. Natsume didn't particularly like the look of one of the burly guards who could have been more on the beefy side than not. Throwing him a untrusting glare, Natsume spoke bitingly, annoyed with everything—the heat, the sun, the Earth, and the rest of humanity. Oh well. Typical Natsume.

"We're here to see the king and queen about the progress of the Alice ruins," he drawled blandly. The guard rose a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Right, we get that all the time. Who are you people? We were told to wait for three _men_, not kids," the guard said haughtily. Natsume swore to curse him to eternity.

"Natsume Hyuuga, Kokoro Yome, Kitsu—" the guard cut him off, waving his hand dispiritedly.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't know how you kids found out about their names, but whatever. Just get in," he said, opening the tall iron gates and shoving the three inside. Natsume's mood couldn't get any darker.

"Oi," Natsume said coolly to the guard as they passed through the gates. "Yeah, you, the pig-faced bastard. Put a sock in it, will you? Oh, right," he said sarcastically, "you _can't_, being the mental retard you are. I bet there are only three cells in your brain--one to eat, one to sleep, and the other to differentiate food and a pillow." Ooh. BURN.

Kitsunume laughed weakly.

"Well, you can't say he wasn't..." he couldn't think of what to say next. Natsume clenched his fists angrily and his mouth twisted into a thin line. How dare he! How dare that miserable excuse of a _man_ (Natsume thought this part with a slightly bitter tone) act like that in front of them? Damn that bloody prat. Damn him and his descendants. Natsume felt like obliterating anyone and anything that got in his way.

But at the sight of the splendor that was the outer gardens of the castle, his anger was momentarily reduced to a spark of annoyance. The gardens were filled with every kind of flower one could imagine and a large fountain of water sprinkled trickles of water everywhere, a mini rainbow of colors resulting from it. The air seemed different from the life outside the palace gates. Everything was so. . . serene, peaceful. Chirping, delightful birds swooped down once in a while to make their presence known. Their melodic tweets resounded through the Eden-like garden.

Natsume had come to the palace once before with his father to ask for permission to start the excavation, but that was such a long time ago. How could he possibly remember the finery of it all now? But Natsume never allowed himself to lose equanimity. His face showed nothing short of indifference. He had trained himself to be devoid of emotion at all costs. He had to be careful in this world, where anything could happen. This was a game he had no choice but to play and he had no thoughts whatsoever about losing. Emotions displayed carelessly on his face were useless in this game, and if it was useless, he had it disposed of. Doing something so foolish as to wear his heart on his sleeve could be the fatal step that could cause his demise.

"Holy shit, man!" Koko said in amazement, "This place could be the eighth wonder of the world!" Natsume rolled his eyes and walked through a trench covered with vines of beautiful roses leading to the interior of the castle. Koko and Kitsunume looked at it with incredulity painted clearly on their faces. Natsume himself thought the arch very cliché, actually. This was to be typically expected in castles like these.

"C'mon, you bloody gits," Natsume said irritably, gesturing to the two boys who marveled at that damn trench like it was made out of gold. "Let's just get this over with."

Natsume didn't know why he preferred getting back to the ruins to staying in this garden of Eden forever. Well, maybe it was because he was simply raised that way. He had never experienced fine luxury all his life, as he grew up with only his father to rely on. His mother, unfortunately, had past away giving birth to him. His father did his best to raise him as best he could, but things could only go so far without the care of a mother. He had spent all his life going around to different places with his father, but all had not been very lavish.

Yes, because Natsume was independent. And he didn't need anyone, not his mother, not his father, nothing and nobody. And he was okay with that. Perfectly okay.

But _wow_ was this place extravagant. A fifteen-foot ceiling swayed above him and the hallway the three had just entered was lined with roman columns, polished marble floors gleamed, cherry wood and mahogany doors taunted him as he stepped further into the space. This was palace was, indeed, fit for a king.

And so, Koko and Kitsunume broke into an all out frenzy. Oh joy.

"Shut up," Natsume said before they had a chance to open their mouths. The two glared at him huffily, then stared at the hallway in wonder.

"Where were we supposed to go again?" Koko asked, breaking the spell first as he looked around for some sign to lead them to the throne room or whatever. Natsume's eyebrows creased as he thought. Yes, where _were_ they supposed to go? Everything was strange and unfamiliar, the numerous doors that seemed to yell at him 'Over here! Over here!' didn't do much help at all.

Thankfully, a servant clad in scarlet robes carrying a silver tray laden with food passed by. Natsume perked up, calling for his her attention, "Oi, you there!" The servant girl turned to him, then flushed a brilliant red.

"Y-yes?" she stuttered, her tray trembling slightly in her hands. Natsume cautiously watched the silver tea pot if it would fall over any minute. After all, he didn't want to be drenched with piping hot tea. Who would?

"We're here to see the king and queen. Where are they?" he asked bluntly. The girl pointed a quivering finger to one of the doors to their right.

"The throne room, sir," she said. Natsume nodded and gestured for Koko and Kitsunume to follow him to that door. Koko grinned.

"The poor girl. You shouldn't have scared her so much, Natsume," he said jokingly, laughing. Kitsunume joined in as well, and their laughter rang throughout the hall.

"Whatever," said Natsume irritably as he opened the mahogany doors leading into what he presumed was the throne room, or the visitors room, or whatever the hell that room was.

The bright lights blinded him for a moment, and he blinked bemusedly before gazing around the room. Well. How very. . . royal. The room wasn't considerably large, but ornate enough to be rightfully called the 'throne room'. A mammoth-sized crystal chandelier hung overhead in the center of the room, red draped curtains covered the large windows, some chairs laden with velvet cushions littered around the area, and a towering ceiling above. Two thrones stood on a few stairs at the back of the room, looking more flamboyant and lavish then the others. On those two thrones sat the king and queen of the Alice Kingdom. The place had a certain air to it, like a sacred temple or some strict library.

Natsume swallowed thickly, but nevertheless walked forward portraying every possible display of confidence as his shoes clacked smartly against the marble floor. Koko and Kitsunume followed a little less boldly, lagging behind him reluctantly. Anyone could guess who the leader was between the three without batting an eyelash.

The two beings who sat upon the thrones stared at the incoming three with dignified silence. Natsume bowed, but kept his eyes on them as he bent forward respectfully. Koko and Kitsunume hasted to do the same, dipping downwards a little too quickly. Natsume straightened up again gazing at the two with a scrutinizing eye. King Izumi and Queen Yuka Sakura—both undeniably beautiful people. Natsume half expected some lazy old fatty with a beard to match his belly seated on the throne munching on a turkey leg with that Saint Nicholas image and a 'ho, ho, ho', with the beloved _queen_ an old bat that had a stick thrust somewhere up her bum—and he says he _doesn't_ believe in fairytales?

"State your name and business," said the king courteously.

"I'm Natsume Hyuuga, and they're Kokoro Yome and Kitsunume. We come in the name of informing you of the progress of the excavation commencing." Natsume's eyes quickly darted around the area, searching for an escape route; one on the right side of the room and one on the other. This was a rather odd habit of his, but he couldn't help it. He always liked to be on his guard.

"Well, boy," said the king quirking a brow at them expectantly, "get on with it then."

Natsume licked his dry lips and nodded, "Yes. . . your highness," he added although slightly reluctantly. He never did get used to such matters as 'courtesy' and 'respect'; it was something he had learned to live without for the past six years, and suddenly being in the need for it now didn't mean it would trigger all his past lessons to mind so quickly, "The excavation's going well. It'll take a week at the most to clear the whole thing up. As expected, the ruins visible are only the tips of the actual structure, but we were able to dig through almost everything. We just have to check through the passageway and gain access through the center of the ruin, then it'll be easiest to unravel the whole of it." That was the second longest Natsume had ever said in his life.

"Jolly well done," King Izumi approved, as the smile reaching the corners of his eyes grew. The queen had remained silent the whole time the conversation took place, "That all then?" he queried. Natsume nodded.

King Izumi motioned Natsume forward with a twinkle in his eye. Natsume, curious, approached him apprehensively. Izumi leaned in and whispered into his ear, "You'll do fine, old boy. Just like your father," Izumi smiled at him, "He would've been so proud." Natsume stared at him unblinkingly, astonished as to how the king knew his father. King Izumi sat up straight again and clapped Natsume on the back, "You'll do great things, you will. Just you wait."

*

A few days had passed since the meeting with the Sakuras, and it was back to work again. Natsume had pushed the crew to its extent until Kitsunume, tired and grumpy, yelled at him feverishly to let them 'take a bloody break' or they might as well 'pack their bags and leave him to do all the damn work himself'. Needless to say, Natsume did not pay heed to this threat and by no means did Kitsunume and the rest leave.

It was late in the afternoon one day when Natsume and a few of his crew went through the maze that was the ruins without any hesitation, and proceeded to where the passageway was. Finally. He was finally going to get inside that passageway and see what the center of the ruins. He was sure that the central had to be something special. After researching of the country's past, he deducted what could and couldn't be in there.

He walked through the tunnel. It gave off a dreary, forbidden fairytale atmosphere, and the walls of the small enclosure looked like they were going to close in on him at any moment. Ignoring this claustrophobic feeling in his gut, Natsume guided the crew through the tunnel with the help of the lamp.

A small bright light in the distance signaled them that the opening was near. At the sight of this, they trudged a bit faster through the passage and was soon entering into a large chamber. It smelled musty and damp, like it had just rained, which was highly unusual for a country this humid. The walls of granite were dusted with yellow powder, imposing upon them fiercely. Three openings in the wall were positioned a few feet from each other, beckoning to him. Natsume touched the wall with his index finger, examining the powder that came off on his finger. Wiping it away on his trousers, he gestured to the others.

"Make the necessary preparations; we're going to investigate those three breaches," he directed, pointing at each of the notches in turn. The rest of his crew nodded zealously and scuttled off. Natsume couldn't help but roll his eyes at their antics. _How pathetic._

"We're gonna search through those three openings tomorrow, mate. Not today. I repeat, _not today_." Natsume glanced over his shoulder at Koko, who grinned at him as usual. Koko moved to stand beside him as they overlooked the chamber, "This is it, huh?" he asked. Natsume's crimson eyes froze for a second, and then he nodded.

"Just a week left until the whole thing is done," Koko continued, the smile on his lips not wavering for a second. Natsume nodded coldly, his heart clenching at the thought of all of it being finished. No more ruins for him to unearth, no more excitement in discovering new channels, new passageways, new chambers, no more. . . excavating. But at least he would have finally accomplished it—his father's dying wish.

"Hn." Koko laughed, clapping Natsume on the back.

"C'mon mate, that all you can say?" Natsume grunted, shoving his hand off and rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Koko could get a little annoying. "Ha! Cat got your tongue? Or are you just suffering from PMS?" Okay, scratch that, he was so damn infuriating that Natsume would just love to wring his neck. He shot him a glare, and then folded his arms across his chest, surveying the chamber with a critical eye.

"Okay, okay," Koko said, laughing as he put his hands up in surrender, "No need to get your knickers in a twist."

Natsume grimaced before scowling at him again. "Sod off."

The two examined the chamber, none of them speaking. Natsume was glad of the silence, Koko reluctantly not opening his mouth lest Natsume blow a gasket.

Koko slipped out a pocket watch from within his jacket and checked it briefly, then put it back in again. "We were supposed to be out of here an hour ago," he remarked idly. Natsume, who looked deep in thought, did not respond. Koko's smile slipped slightly, "I _said_, we were supposed to be out of here an hour ago."

Natsume, disgruntled, frowned at him. "I heard you the first time." Koko smirked.

"Yeah, well, you didn't seem to react to my voice the first time, did you?" The sandy-haired young man abruptly turned on his heel and walked back into the dark tunnel, a lamp in hand, "I'll go ahead."

Natsume did not watch to see him go, nor did he notice the rest of the crew leave along with Koko. He just stood in the dark and silence, taking it all in. By the time he had bothered to check his own watch, it was past six. Muttering incoherent curses under his breath, he swiveled to meet the darkness of the tunnel, and stopped suddenly, as he noticed something that he hadn't noticed before.

A strange carving in the floor. How could he have been so stupid as to have missed this? He crouched and stared at the sign engraved into the ground, his lamp enlightening the form. It was a sign he had not known of; nothing in the country's history books had ever mentioned it before. It was an odd sort of emblem; a large ring encircling an open scroll in the beak of a crow. The crow's wings were open wide as it overlooked a sea ablaze with flames.

Natsume, curiosity overwhelming his insides, leant in and touched the marking. Bad choice, Hyuuga.

The insignia immediately alighted with a fierce, smoldering heat and light that it momentarily blinded Natsume as he struggled to regain his composure. A whirlwind of emotions and thoughts ran through his head as if an alarm had gone off at the slightest hint of danger. Everything seemed to bright, he couldn't bear to open his eyes. But he had to. He had to keep conscious, who knew what could happen if he had fainted like some weak sissy? Natsume had a standard set of protocol, rule number one was to never admit defeat. Rule two was to never show his weak side to anyone, ever. And he was determined not to break any of those rules.

Wrenching his hand away from the marking, he hastened to escape from the ruins. The possibility that it might blow up was very high, so he whizzed past tunnel to tunnel and climbed up the rickety ladder. And what he saw when he reached the top made his heart drop faster than anything that had ever happened in his life. And let me tell you now, Natsume had been through a damn lot of things, but this sight just so happened to be the one that took the spot.

* * *

**Hello! Thank you for reading the first chapter of 'Running to Stand Still'. I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as well. If you have any questions for me relating to myself personally or to the story, please don't hesitate to ask. But I'm warning you all now, no spoilers will be given. I noticed the similarity to 'Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle' by CLAMP, but by all means, I do not intend to copy the whole storyline. How the plot will unfold will turn out in its time. **

**I know that the concept of the tale does not seem very, how do I put it. . . Asian? It practically screams 'English' from the dialogue and their clothes. No mention of a yukata or a kimono will be featured here, I assure you. Nor will Mikan be calling Natsume with an attached suffix such as 'kun' or 'san'. I suppose this is the result of staying up late reading Harry Potter. **

**Please stay tuned for the next chapter of the story and do take the time to review. I'd love to hear your critiques and constructive criticism on my story, so I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't mind leaving a little something to remind me that people actually read my work and want to know what happens next.**

**Signed,**

_Tearless Sonnet_


	2. Interaction

**Disclaimer:** Disclaimed.

**Written by:** Tearless Sonnet

**Running to Stand Still**

***

Dedicated to:

_Madeleine Mason_

_***_

_"Night turns to day and I still have these questions_

_You just won't break, should I go forwards or backwards_

_Night turns to day and I've still got no answers"_

—_A Whisper by Coldplay _

**Chapter II – Interaction**

Natsume's heart clenched painfully at the scene before him. It spelt all too clearly of destruction, pain, death. Screams of blinding terror echoed from everywhere he looked; there was just no escaping it. The tent he had been examining blueprints in only a few days ago had caught fire as bright orange flames blazed at him threateningly; the black smoke seeping from various sites on the plantation choked him and his head spun deliriously. His throat felt sore and tight. For a second, Natsume stood there in horror, the gist of the predicament he was in not fully taking effect. And then, with a great big jolt to his heart, the full impact of everything hit him full force. This was all real. No fluke. Natsume's heart sank despairingly; he had no idea how to right this. He had a sneak suspicion that what he had encountered at the ruins had had something to do with all the destruction. An overwhelming feeling of guilt went along with the sinking of his heart. He had to do something about it. Now.

Natsume winced as a wooden post fell with a deafening crash beside him, narrowly escaping the timber alight with dancing flames. He coughed severely into his scratched and battered hand, glaring furiously at his surroundings. He had to get out of here first if he wanted to do something about his. . . mistake. But everywhere he turned was either engulfed in the heat and velocity of the fire, or crashed structures, vulnerable to the flames that wasted no time in embracing them with treacherous arms. Natsume grit his teeth in frustration and closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. He needed some time to think, get his head straightened out. He was sure that the smoke of the fire had muddled it somehow and intoxicated him. Natsume shook his head, trying to clear his bewildered mind, and with a sharp and precise eye, he began to search for any way to get out into the open air where the smoke did not conquer.

Crashed structures and buildings burned to the left and right, while the ruins lay behind him. He stared straight ahead, but the only thing left was the burning tent. A ring of flames surrounded the excavation camp, leaving no means of escape. He scowled and swore under his breath, crouching on the ground and trying to think up a plan. So far, nothing was coming up. Natsume pounded his fist on the ground in frustration, staring at the soot-blackened sand. Glancing up from his position on the ground, he saw something he didn't see a while ago. A small opening, just barely concealed by the fire, obscured by a rather large burning loo.

He stood up quickly; no time was to be wasted. Stealthily creeping over to the breach in the ring of flames, he dodged burning carcasses of what used to be his life's work and managed to avoid any serious injuries besides a few burns and cuts as he went over the burning structure hiding his only way to escape. He held his breath and covered his nose and mouth in hope of the smoke not seeping in. He finally managed to escape the excavation site and stared in horror at it from a far distance as the smoke billowed up to cloud the sky in black.

Natsume felt his throat tighten painfully. Eight years. Eight years of all his hard work down the drain, not counting the first three when his father had headed the excavation. Three years before he died, that is. Immediately, a cold pain shot through his heart at the remembrance of his father, and Natsume grit his teeth in remorse. He loved his father, he really did. Natsume was not known to express his affections for any one person, nor have been expected to have 'affections' at all. I'm sure, had it been another, that thought would have been very offending. It was basically calling Natsume an emotionless robot with a tin can for a heart. But Natsume, the 'emotionless robot' he was, did not bother telling them off. Actually, he didn't bother noticing their presence at all. He didn't care. But, as contrasting to his robotic ways it was, Natsume did feel something other than love for his father and, though slightly less deep, his mother—arrogance, pride. Selfishness. Not very good traits.

But then, he realized he was forgetting something. A loud scream from the dig echoed in the empty desert, and Natsume, with horrible awareness, remembered the other trapped people in the site. He cursed angrily at himself for forgetting and took off back to the burning relics.

It was rather dark that night, and it was hard to see very clearly even when the bright flames cast their brightest around the ruins. Natsume scowled as he looked around anxiously for anyone. He crept over beside a large, fallen post when a faint whimper was heard.

A muffled voice groaned weakly. Natsume reflexively turned around to see if anyone was there before realizing that he was being stupid and the voice was of a person trapped underneath the post. He struggled to lift the heavy post, but it seemed its weight was too much for him and he let go. He sighed in frustration and ran his hand through his hair, a habit of his that began from all the way back when he was twelve and refused to fade away.

If he couldn't do it himself, then he'd have to get help. "Oi!" Natsume shouted over the loud screams and wails. No one answered for a moment.

"Get me. . . out of he-here. . ." the feeble voice called, before coughing delicately and falling silent. Natsume's eyebrows creased. He didn't have enough time! Gritting his teeth, he tried to lift the heavy piece of wood again. He didn't gain anything from it other than splinters in his hand. Wincing as he pulled one out, he tried to talk to the person underneath again.

"I can't get you out unless you help. Try and push the wood off of you." The voice whispered an 'okay, I'll try' and the block of wood moved a little. Natsume grimaced. "Again!" he shouted, struggling to lift it up. "Try harder!" The huge slab of wood shifted a little bit more, and Natsume used all of his strength to pull it up. Just a . . . little bit. . . more. . . He pulled and pulled and. . .

"T-thanks. . ." A man with blonde hair blackened with soot coughed violently and struggled to get up. Natsume, with the relief of a man who had gotten the world on his shoulders off of him, heaved down the heavy piece of wood and sighed.

He pointed out the way of escape to the man and hurried to try and rescue the others. There weren't many people left in the site, most of them had fled, terrified, back to the kingdom. Natsume grit his teeth and set out to find any survivors. The heat was blistering and it threatened to close down on him like too narrow walls aflame with light. His throat was constricted with anxiety and panic; what if he didn't rescue the others in time? What he was charged with murder? He didn't think he could handle all these deaths on his account. And his excavation—oh, his _excavation_—it would be all for naught.

With this dismal thought in mind, he weaved his way through fallen remains and burning carcasses and a loud scream was heard. He turned to his right and saw a circle of fire, very like the one he had been in earlier, trapped around a young man with round glasses (Natsume was sure they were cracked by now) and a woman with dark hair fixed in messy ringlets. They were huddled together, deathly white and quivering with fear. Natsume hastened to quicken his footsteps, heaving in and out from rescuing the previous person and the run from all the way on the other side of the site. He stopped a few feet away from the ring of fire and swore loudly. It was only by a lucky chance that he had gotten away from the firetrap, and it was only a small hole, so what were the chances of another bigger one this time?

The couple from inside the shield of fire (it didn't seem much like a shield actually, thought Natsume flatly, more like a weapon of mass destruction) perked up at the sound of his voice, even though his choice of vocabulary wasn't very polite, and a spark of hope flashed in their eyes. They waved frantically at him, shouting and shouting 'We're over here! SAVE US!' Natsume felt himself cringe. He had never liked this type of people; you know, the annoying, high-on-drugs-like kind? Nevertheless. . .

He felt the gears in his brain whirring and clinking together, trying to find a way to get them out. . . He examined his surrounding hastily, the fire and the heat was incredibly overwhelming. The sickening feeling in his gut reminded him that he had a time limit; if he didn't rescue them in time then they'd be dead before he could say 'snicker doodle' . . . not that he'd want to say that, anyway.

A large wooden plank that had broken off a pillar lay a few ways away, and Natsume hastened to pick and up and dump it on one portion of the fire vertically. Then, he proceeded to walk on it like a balance beam, carefully avoiding the blistering flames that tried to lick at his sleeves. He jumped precariously off the plank, making sure it was steady, and ran towards the fugitives. They looked like they had seen the messiah. The woman had started crying and there was a curious dark spot on the man's trousers. Natsume's nose wrinkled in disgust, but he shoved them towards the plank without another word.

"Oh, thank you so much—" started the woman, but Natsume shushed her by forcing her onto the plank, where she crossed and waited for the other to pass. The man quickly proceeded as well. Natsume made sure not to lay a finger on him. And then, it was the rescuer himself whose turn was next. His bangs looked glued to his forehead from all the sweating in the intense heat and his breathing was heavy.

He stepped on the plank and stiffed for a moment as it wavered and was nearly caught in the sweltering flames. Natsume took little steps, not wanting to tip the plank and send it (and himself) towards a hot, burning doom. He was almost there; just a step or two more. . . In his excitement, he trod a bit too hard on the wooden beam and the fire, unfortunately, finally captured it. Natsume jumped, as a last attempt, over the fire and rolled onto the ground, bruising his jaw and knee. A throbbing pain welled up in his jaw and Natsume smelt something much too familiar to be pleasant—blood. The two had already fled as soon as they had gotten out, he realized. Swearing bitterly to never help those people again, Natsume got up. He took one last lingering look at the monument swallowed by the fire and took off as fast as he could.

He had to warn the kingdom.

*

King Izumi was at a loss on what to do.

The kingdom was in a panic—people screaming and fleeing whichever direction you turned. He knew it had to do with something in the ruins. Some of the citizens who worked at the dig had come shooting on about something or another. And then, out of nowhere, a group (more like army) of soldiers began killing all the townspeople. But they weren't just any soldiers—they had powers. Special powers that was so unbelievable that nobody, not even the strongest of their kingdom, could stand a chance against even one.

The confounded king ordered their own armies to protect their beloved home country, but they were being killed off like tiny fish against a shark. So naturally, when one such as the great king of the Alice kingdom was put in these troublesome circumstances, they wouldn't know what to do. So, we can't really blame him, can we?

The Alice Kingdom was a peaceful place. No war had ever occurred or some neighboring country taken over. They were simple content. This event had certainly changed history. It as the first war and takeover they had ever experienced—and certainly the most bizarre one as well. Those soldiers weren't normal human beings—they were extraterrestrials, aliens, strangers, inhuman. They were a mystery. The kingdom had never seen it coming. It was just a normal day like the usual. And all of a sudden, some army of inhuman creatures pop out of nowhere and start massacring their people. Who wouldn't be angry? Mad? Confused? Terrified?

It simply wasn't normal.

When the soldiers had stormed the palace, the poor king was sitting in his throne, frantically ordering the military general for maximum protection, and had only had the time to shout out to his daughter and her attendants "GO, LEAVE! TAKE THE STYLUS!"

And then one of the soldiers had lifted his (or its?) arm and suddenly, the life in the king's eyes faded away, like a lamp snuffed out.

Mikan's scream resounded through the large chamber, until it too faded away like the light in the late king's eyes.

*

It was dark in the tunnel. The only light visible in the passageway was the lamp held in Shasta's possession, lighting the path by only a few feet, just enough to see where they were stepping, but nothing more. Shasta, however, seemed to be sure of where they—Mikan and himself—were headed. He had a grim, resolute expression on his face that softened slightly when he heard Mikan's sniffles.

"We're almost there," he called to her. She did not look up. He sighed and looked at her over his shoulder in pity. The poor girl. He'd hoped that she wouldn't have to see such a sight until she grew older. Preferably, not at all.

"What happened to mother?" she asked quietly, the first time she had spoken in hours. Shasta twirled a curious item in his left hand, the right being occupied by the lamp. He did not speak for a moment, still twirling the article like a baton.

"I don't know," he admitted regretfully. "Her highness was still in her bed chamber when the attack happened." Mikan bit her lip. The question in her head pecked and prodded at her to be put out into the open, but she couldn't seem to make her tongue work.

"Do you think she's okay?" she blurted out, before she chickened out of it later. Shasta took his precious time answering it. He grew so quiet that Mikan didn't know whether he would answer or not. At last, he spoke up.

"She's a strong woman, your mother," he began slowly. "But. . . nobody can escape the inevitable."

The silence grew on for a long while, and the path extended still further on, the darkness growing along with it. And then, all of a sudden, they stopped.

Mikan peered sideways at the large stele carved in cuneiform, the ancient writing of the Sumerians. Shasta brought up the baton-like object, revealing it to be a stylus, the writing tool that so resembled a pen of their ancestors.

"You know your history right?" said Shasta as he brought the stylus to rest of the stone slab.

"Yes," replied Mikan tentatively. "Our kingdom resided in Mesopotamia—in the Fertile Crescent, the cradle of civilization. We were a unknown civilization. Quiet, content to go unnoticed. We weren't as resourceful and intelligent as the Sumerians, nor as strong as the Assyrians. We were decently average; so average that nobody had bothered to discover us; and which was precisely the reason why our race did not die out."

"Yes," confirmed Shasta approvingly, carving ancient cuneiform onto the huge stone slab. Mikan was rusty in her cuneiform, but she could roughly understand what it meant—_open_. As Shasta carved, he spoke, "We were not renowned like our other brethren, but that did not mean we were useless. Actually, we were the most special out of them all." He turned to smile at Mikan, his blue eyes twinkling about something she didn't know.

"What do you mean?" she asked, but her question went unnoticed. The cuneiform character on the stele turned a bright blue, and the slab slid past them, opening a new doorway. Mikan stared at it openmouthed.

"C'mon." Shasta beckoned to her. He was already striding over the hard musty ground covered in a fine powdery substance. On the floor of the chamber was a mysterious symbol. It looked vaguely familiar to her, like something out of a dream. . .

"You're lagging behind," Shasta informed her helpfully. Mikan nodded and turned away reluctantly from the symbol, trying to catch up with her father's right-hand man.

"Where are we going?" she asked. Shasta did not answer.

Suddenly, a rumbling sort of sound filled the empty cave. Shasta's exotic grey eyes widened and he swore. It was Mikan's eyes who widened this time.

"You just said the 'F Word'!" she exclaimed. Shasta gulped.

"This is not the time to talk about it now, Princess. We've gotta go!"

Mikan's eyes flashed left and right frantically, expecting some humongous monster to pop out of one of the. . . er. . . There was nothing to hide behind, so she supposed that it could just disappear and appear whenever it wanted.

"What's going on?!" she said, panic-stricken. Shasta shook his head hastily and pulled her hand while he ran.

"I told you," he called, "there's no time!"

The rumbling sound began to get louder and more distinguished; a large horde of marching feet making their way towards them. At this, Shasta started and ran faster through the maze of chambers. Mikan's feet were uncoordinated as she ran, and she stumbled on bits and pieces of fallen rock. Her legs tangled together and threatened to crash towards the floor, bringing her along with it.

Shasta ran and ran--his movement, unlike Mikan's, seemed so graceful and effortless. Sometimes, he reminded her of a stallion or a swan. She'd never tell him that, of course. He'd say stallions were old fashioned and that swans were much too feminine.

Shasta began to run more desperately, like a stallion chased by hunters. Mikan could barely keep up.

"Slow down!" she tried to tell him, but he didn't listen.

"You've got to hurry!" he said instead, looking over his shoulder. His face grew horrified. Mikan, burning with curiosity, turned as well.

Those soldiers--the one she had seen storm the palace--were chasing after them. They were a great deal behind, but it was inevitable that they would catch up with them sooner or later. The former was more possible than the latter, unfortunately.

"Oh no." Shasta turned back forward and darted into a chamber to his left, then in another chamber again. "Shake them off, shake them off," he murmured to himself whenever he did this.

They passed room by room, which seemed all the same to Mikan, though they lacked that symbol from the first one she entered. This set her mind whirring. Where had she seen that symbol before? In a dream? No, she thought, she never usually remembered her dreams, so what difference could this one make?

All of a sudden, they stopped dead. Mikan ran straight into Shasta's back. She rubbed her head and peeked at what he was looking at from behind him. Shasta did not react.

It was a dead end.

_They _were as good as dead.

"This can't be happening," Shasta deadpanned. "I was supposed to protect you."

Mikan looked behind her. The soldiers were approaching quickly. "Shasta!" she screamed. He whipped his head round and swore. Mikan was too terrified to comment on this. He pushed her behind him and braced himself.

"Mikan," he said, without looking back at her. "Be strong."

It was the last thing she heard from him as the deafening sound of marching feet grew so close, so close that she couldn't hear herself think.

She couldn't hear herself scream, but she liked it better that way. It saved her from the anguish.

*

Natsume, at this moment, was dreadfully lost.

He had already visited the kingdom, which was in pure, complete chaos, and didn't bother to inform the king of what had occurred. He supposed the king to be dead, after all.

So he, after seeing that there was nothing to be done, had fled. He fled towards a mountain to hide for shelter till the dark came and he could take a boat to a far-off country. He hated to do this, to leave the land he first called home, to leave all the memories of his father, but it was the only thing he _could_ do. He couldn't take back the kingdom by _himself_! It was unthinkable. Stupid, even. The king was dead, the people murdered, and the military in ruins. The Alice Kingdom was simply no more.

Natsume swallowed thickly.

He had been inside this mountain before and knew for a fact that he was the only one who knew of its secret passageways and chambers (unknown to him, he was wrong), so he entered the opening crevice and scaled the rocky walls, arriving on the musty ground. He knew, of course, that the mountain connected to the ruins. He had examined that secret passageway much thoroughly than everyone thought, and thought not to tell the others until it was important. Now, there were no 'others' to tell, so he'd have to bring the secret with him to his grave.

Now _that_ was a scenario completely possible.

He walked into another passageway and into another until he was at the heart of the mountain. Watching his feet as he stepped, he heard a rumbling sound echoing above. Curious, he climbed the walls by grasping excess pieces of rock protruding out of it, and glanced around.

It was those soldiers.

Well, shit.

*

Mikan's wide brown eyes spilled salty tears down her flushed cheeks. This was it. She was going to die. She closed her eyes. Goodbye, my wonderful, beloved kingdom. Goodbye my darling Dinah! (Dinah was the cat.) Please be kind to Wilkins! (Wilkins was the dog and the arch-enemy of her cat.) Don't drink up all the milk! And then she realized that Dinah and Wilkins might be dead too. I wonder if there are mice and milk and yarn up in heaven for Dinah? And how about bones and chew toys and doggie biscuits for Wilkins? As you can see, her mind was easily distracted. Even by death.

"Oi!" a dashing, raven-haired man called. "Over here, visor-wearing freaks of nature!" Mikan whipped her head to stare at him with wide eyes. The soldiers immediately chased after him, but leaving the remainder to take care of Mikan. She sighed inwardly. At least he tried.

Natsume, on the other hand, had another idea up his sleeve. He climbed up another crevice in the wall and pushed a large boulder over the soldiers surrounding the brunette girl, but making sure he didn't hurt the victim himself. All this he did quickly, since the soldiers that were chasing _him_ were catching up quite quickly. Then, he jumped and landed on the rock, grabbing a hold of the girl's arm and hauling her up with him.

He spotted an escape route nearby and ran to it, dragging the girl along with him.

Poor Mikan was astounded. A handsome man she didn't know had just saved her from being killed and was now running off to escape with her. Was she rescued or eloped? Hey, she thought as she stared at the back of the man's head, elopement wouldn't be so bad compared to an untimely death.

"You girl!" the man barked, glaring at her with piercing red eyes. "Hurry up if you don't want to get massacred by those bastards!"

She resisted saying, "You just said the 'B Word'!" but nevertheless tried to keep up with the stranger's long strides.

"C'mon," he said, twisting and turning at every passageway.

"You sure you know where you're going, huh Mr. Hot-Shot?" she said irritably; her feet were beginning to ache.

Natsume smirked at her. "Know it like the back of my hand."

Indeed, it didn't take them long to reach the exit and lose the other soldiers. They both ran as far away from the mountain, neither of them looking back to see if the soldiers were following them. At last, they stopped a good many yards away from the mountain, breathing in and out. Mikan, by this time, was perspiring and her face had turned an embarrassing shade of red. Natsume was out of breath, but he looked like he had only just run a few blocks.

"Who--" Mikan started, hunched over and clutching her stomach, "Who are you?"

Natsume scowled at her. "What, no thank you?" Mikan blushed, her already red face turning even redder.

"Thanks." When Natsume didn't answer, she said, "Well, if you won't tell me your name, I'm telling mine. I'm Mikan Sakura." Natsume blinked.

"Don't tell me _you're_ the princess of the Alice Kingdom? The daughter of King Izumi and Queen Yuka?" Natsume furrowed his eyebrows. "Isn't your last name supposed to be Yukihara?" Mikan shrugged.

"Mum wanted me to keep her maiden name. Besides, Mikan Sakura sounds prettier than Mikan Yukihara." Natsume snorted. Mikan scowled at him. "You haven't told me your name yet!" she accused.

"Fine, fine. It's Natsume." Mikan frowned.

"Natsume what?"

"Natsume What-Do-You-Care?" he shot back irritably. "Why don't you just run along back to your kingdom of rainbows and butterflies?" She huffed and crossed her arms.

"Well, _my_ kingdom, as you have forgotten, has been _destroyed_ and _annihilated_," she said. "And I do not live in rainbows and butterflies."

Natsume groaned. "Whatever. Just get out of my sight."

She gave a quiet scream herself. "I have no place to go back to! I don't have anyone to go back to!"

Natsume glared at her. "Well, not my problem now is it?" Mikan screamed in frustration. He covered his ears. "Could you be any louder?"

"You saved me!" she wailed. ("Oh, you won't believe how much I regret that," muttered Natsume.) "I'm your responsibility now!"

"Woah, woah, wait. You're my responsibility now? You?" He shook his head unbelievingly. "I don't think so."

Mikan poked a finger into his chest, looking into his eyes. "Well, Mr. Natsume What-Do-You-Care, whether you like it or not, I am coming with you." Natsume, by this point, seriously regretted ever taking the trouble to save her.

"Just--just--" Natsume sighed and put a hand in his hair. He thought about what he did. He caused all of this, after all. Wasn't he the one who brought the destruction on the kingdom, therefore causing this girl to lose her parents? Wasn't it his fault?

"Fine," he said finally. He was going to regret making this decision, he was sure. "Fine already."

"Fine?" said Mikan disbelievingly. "For real? You're not just lying to me and then ditching me right at the last moment, are you?"

Natsume snorted. "I wish."

Mikan turned her nose up at him. "_I_ am a princess. And if I am going to spend the rest of my time with you, you'd better shape up and get some manners."

Natsume chuckled. "I'm afraid, _princess_, that it had better be _you_ getting used to _me_."

*

"Where are we _going_?"

Mikan walked lazily behind Natsume, her heart pounding in her ears and sweat dripping down her front. She staggered forward, her eyes threatening to shut closed and not open till the next morning.

She moaned. "Can't we rest for a while? My legs are _killing_ me!"

Natsume didn't look back at her, but she could sense his irritation growing. To her surprise, he didn't lash out at her. "So much the better," was all he said.

Although they had no belongings with them, the walk was a long one. Where they were actually _walking to_, Mikan didn't know. Natsume had just started walking and she had gotten up and followed. No way was she going to let him _leave_ her there all alone and with no companion to talk to! She was a princess, for Pete's sake! Royalty! She shouldn't have to be dealing with this—this disgrace!

"You're so slow. Hurry up," said the young man, glancing at her for the first time in three hours.

"But I want to rest!" she whined. Natsume grit his teeth.

"We'll rest when we get there. And who knows when that'll be, what with that turtle pace you're going? Please, my grandma could move faster than you."

"Your grandma would be dead by how many hours we've been walking! And it's so hot!"

"Quit your complaining. For your information, it's only been a few hours." Natsume's head was aching already and he didn't want to deal with this girl any longer. All he wanted to do was drop her off somewhere and never look back.

"A few hours my butt! I swear it's been at least eight!"

"Stop exaggerating and shut up."

The journey was a long one. Mikan kept on whining and Natsume kept on ignoring her that it made the hours seem longer than they were.

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

No answer.

"Are we _there_ yet?"

"Just shut the hell up."

"You said the 'H Word'!"

Yes, the journey was definitely a long one.

By the time they reached the dock, it was nearing dusk. Natsume looked around for any vacant ship left they could take, but there was only one. It looked a right dreary little boat, with billowing white sails and an ethereal aura. He didn't like the look of it (it wasn't masculine enough) but that was the only thing left, so it would have to do.

"Stay here," he said to Mikan while he approached the ship.

He reached the boat and knocked on the captain's quarters. Nobody answered. He knocked again, but harder, and a creak and the sound of something falling to the ground. The door opened.

"Whaddaya want?" An old man stood there looking grumpy, with an old nightcap and gown and slightly bulging eyes. His square face was set with deep lines and he had a small, pert nose. Natsume he thought he looked like an overgrown pug.

"We need a boat," Natsume said. The old man quirked a brow.

"It's late. We don't accept any visi—" He tried to close the door, but Natsume put his foot in the middle of the doorway and stared at him. The man looked back at him with clear blue eyes. He grunted. "How many? Just you?"

"Two. Myself and a lass." The old man's eye twinkled.

"Newlyweds, eh?" he prompted with a chuckle. "Sorry but this ain't a love boat, you kn—"

Natsume was disgusted. That spoiled princess and him, newlyweds? "No. My sister," he lied instead. The man grunted once more.

"Fine. Toll's five quid and a shilling for the both of you." Natsume stared at him in astonishment, remembering they didn't have any money. The old man's eyes hardened. "Don't expect me to do any more favors for you, boy. This is the last one. You'll work as one of our crew. Your girl could assist in odd jobs or cook. Can she cook?"

Natsume, wishing fitfully that the girl could in fact cook, nodded. The old man beamed. "All's well then. We're setting sail tomorrow for Ōto. Find an inn to stay at." He paused, seeing Natsume's expression. "All right, fine, this is the _last_ favor I'm doing for you young people. The cabin's at the back. Sixth room to the left. Say Captain Serpens let you in." Natsume nodded and thanked him before returning to Mikan.

"C'mon," he said, leading her towards the ship. Mikan couldn't see his face in the dark, but she supposed she'd be sleeping in somewhere fitful.

It was much too late that Natsume recalled the captain saying 'room' not 'rooms'.

The walked down the creaking hallway of the cabin, the snores of the sailors featuring the wild night life in the evening.

"Is this where we're _sleeping_?" said Mikan, scandalized.

"Yes, and you better be grateful. We're not paying for this."

She sighed in relief. "So it's free then?" He didn't answer. She grew nervous. "It's free, right?"

By this time they had already reached the front of the door, and Natsume had found himself saved once again to put off answering the girl's question.

"Get in," he shoved her inside and followed. He glanced at room without interest, but did notice the single bed in the middle of the room. Oh dear.

Mikan stretched her arms over her head, feeling so tired after the long trek in the desert. When she saw that warm, comfortable-looking bed, she nearly collapsed in relief.

"Thank goodness!" she cried, preparing to throw herself onto it—until she saw Natsume was still in the room, that is. She swiveled her head to look at him so fast that she almost suffered a whip lash.

"What are you still doing here?" Uh oh. Her voice sounded way too high-pitched than normal. Definitely not good.

Natsume looked very unhappy with the way things were working out, but he just pushed past her, settling on the couch.

"We're sharing the same room, stupid." He crossed his arms and glared at her. "You got a problem with that?"

Mikan really didn't like this. "You think I've got a problem with that? What are you, blind? Of course I've got a problem with this! I'm—you're—it's not—this is just—argh!" She paced back and forth in the small room, her facial expression terrified.

"Will you stop it?" said Natsume crossly. Her pacing gave him headaches. "There was no way we could get another room. And even if I protested for another room, the captain would be suspicious; I told him we were siblings."

"Siblings!" she shrieked. "We don't look a thing alike! He'll never believe that!"

"Will you just shut up for once?" Natsume nearly shouted. "I'll make up something. You can be my adopted little sister, whatever. Just stop bugging me—I need some damn sleep."

Mikan groaned, sinking into the bed. "Alright, fine. Whatever. But you stay on that couch; don't you dare move or I'll pulverize you!"

Natsume, from his makeshift bed on the sofa, snorted. "You and what army?"

Mikan buried her face into her pillow and didn't answer. He was right. She was alone now, and there was nothing she could do about it.

*

Natsume woke up to the sound of waves crashing against the sides of the ship and the dull cries of seagulls flying overhead. He touched his forehead; his headache had gotten a lot worse. Feeling slightly drowsy, he stared up at the cabin ceiling above, the wooden carvings of churning waves and anchors swimming before his eyes. He closed them and tried to calm down his brain—everything he saw still seemed a little fuzzy.

He laid still for a few more minutes, letting the sound of the waves bring tranquility back into his body system. He opened his eyes wearily, getting up and sitting in bed. He glanced about the room in interest, having little time to do so the other night because of the fatigue draining his body and that idiotic girl's high-pitched voice. Oh great. That just reminded him of his little passenger. He stared at Mikan, who lay curled up into a small ball on the bed, snoring peacefully. He resisted the urge to snort. Weren't princesses supposed to be dignified? Sophisticated?

Mikan let out another pig-like snore.

Apparently not.

Natsume sighed and got up, heading straight to the bathroom. The bathroom, like the cabin, was small in itself; confined and wooden from head to toe. There was a small bucket in the corner of one side—Natsume cringed. He knew what that was. One of the things he disliked about being out in sea, having to go to the toilet in a bucket. It wasn't even big, come to think of it.

He splashed some water on his face from a large pail (the tap and sink) and glanced at his face in the small square mirror. His normally tanned face was bleached pale and his red eyes looked dead shot. Natsume wiped his hand over his face and tried to smooth down his unruly hair. But no matter what he did, it always managed to stick out everywhere. A tentative knock on the door sounded. Natsume glanced at Mikan, who was still sound asleep, snoring like a baby. He rolled his eyes and walked to the door.

When he opened it, two identical boys stood in front of him, grinning cheeky grins. They reminded him dreadfully of Kitsunume and Koko. Swallowing painfully at the memory, he looked at the newcomers straight in the eye.

"Whaddaya want?" he growled. Blunt. Harsh. Typical Natsume.

The two boys were twins, no doubt. They looked at each other and back at Natsume. He didn't like that look. It was a skeptical 'we're-up-to-something' look. No one ever liked that look, and Natsume didn't either.

One of them grinned and presented a small canvas bag to him. "Your clothes." His voice had a distinct accent that sounded a little English.

"For you and the other one," continued the other twin. He paused, glancing at his brother. "I'm Castor," he said.

"And I'm Pollux," said the other twin. They exchanged mischievous grins.

Natsume reluctantly grunted out thanks and moved to close the door. Pollux, in a maneuver so like his own last night, put out his foot and stopped the door from closing.

"Well, that's just rude," he said, smirking. His twin had an identical expression on his own face. "Why don't we start again. I'm Pollux, nice to meet you. This is my twin brother—"

"Castor," said Castor helpfully. "Let's see, where do we start? We're seventeen. We're male." At this, he shared a look with his brother, both snickering. "Our favorite color is green. We like a lot of stuff."

"And we hate a lot of stuff," said Pollux. "Our favorite hobby is pulling pranks."

"And we hate bell pepper." Castor wrinkled his nose. "Demented things, the lot of them. Don't know why human beings eat them."

Natsume raised his eyebrow pointedly. "You sound as if you're not one." The twins shared another secretive look. Their devious smiles widened. Natsume did not like the look of this. He didn't like this at all.

"Yeah," he said resolutely, to settle the matter. "Didn't think so. Well, if that's it—"

Castor's blue-green eyes glinted. "Not so fast, hot shot."

"You've gotta tell us about yourself first," Pollux added. Natsume looked ready to kill. And he would have done so had not it resulted in them (Mikan and himself) losing free transportation. Well, semi-free.

"Fine," he said angrily. "I'm Natsume. There, goodbye." Castor wagged a finger in his face.

"Not done!" he said obnoxiously. "Likes and dislikes."

Natsume crossed his arms and tried intimidating them with his look. It always worked. Unfortunately, it did not this time. "Fine. Likes: none. Dislikes: you two. Now leave me alone." He shut the door swiftly when they were unguarded and locked it. A synchronized knock sounded on the door. It sounded vaguely like Humpty Dumpty. Natsume sighed and opened the door again.

"What is it now?" he said irritably. The twins smiled at each other, then at him.

"Nothing," said Pollux.

"We just wanted to have the final word, is all." Castor shut the door in his face. Ouch.

By the time Mikan woke up, which was at the time this scenario took place, Natsume was literally breathing fire. And unfortunately, he had found the perfect victim to blow off some steam.

*

Mikan woke up at the most unfortunate time. And to make it worse, she woke up to the sight of Natsume practically burning with anger. She blinked in surprise; what a sight for sore eyes. And to make it clear, she meant that sarcastically.

She struggled to sit up in bed, the sheets coiling around her body. Natsume turned to her.

"You're finally awake, I see." He said this calmly, but the fire in his eyes told the truth.

"Yeah?" she said huffily. "What's it to you? Oof!" Natsume had tossed her the bag, having already dressed into his own clothes.

"Clothes," he grunted out. "Change into them as quickly as you can; we've got work to do."

Mikan didn't like the sound of that. Work always associated with manual labor. Mikan was a princess, and princesses don't _do_ manual labor.

"Work?" she said skeptically. "What do you mean, work?"

Natsume snorted at her stupidity. Princesses really were as stupid as he had thought. "You know, work. W-o-r-k. The activity in which one exerts strength or faculties to do or perform something. Work."

Mikan growled angrily, trying to push her messy bed hair out of her face. "Yes, I get the picture. You're a walking Webster's dictionary scroll, you know that?"

Natsume's scowl curled into a cocky smirk. "Don't I know it. Now get dressed."

Mikan crossed her arms and got up from the bed. She headed to the bathroom. Noticing that it had no lock, she immediately spun to face Natsume. Her gaze scorched him unpleasantly. "Don't you dare look," she warned.

Natsume raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "What's there to look at?"

She promptly slammed the door in his face.

Natsume rolled his eyes. Moody females, he thought. You would think they were born with sticks in their asses.

A few minutes later, Mikan came back out, fully dressed in a white blouse, a brown leather vest, trousers, and boots. Her scraggly brown hair was tied back with a bandanna.

Natsume mentally whistled. He would never admit it, but she cleaned up good. His expression was blank when he addressed her. "Good. Let's go."

He strode towards the door, opening it and stepping out into the hallway. Mikan was still trying to fasten the buckle of her boots, and ran quickly as she tried to catch up with him. She liked her new clothes; they were comfortable. Not stylish, but comfortable.

She caught up to him, awkwardly moving in her new clothes. Sometimes she wondered if she'd ever get used to this.

They entered another hallway decorated with framed paintings of the seaside. But they were strange paintings; most of them were of ethereal figures. Creatures like mermaids, sea serpents, giant squids, the Loch Ness monster, krakens, sirens, sea horses, and Nereid.

Mikan stared at them in awe, but Natsume passed them in respective silence. They ship was swaying silently as they floated along in the sea. Natsume mentally calculated how long they would take getting to Ōto and what they would do there. The ship was slower than what he was used to and their destination was a bit far off. Depending on which direction the wind was blowing, either way they wouldn't get to Ōto so soon. Give or take two weeks at the most. That wasn't good, but he would have to make do with it for now.

When they reached the deck, the sky was inky grey, black clouds hovering overhead. This was not a good sign, as Natsume knew that it was only mid-afternoon. They had overslept, which normally he would not have allowed, but since yesterday's events were very. . . eventful, he couldn't help sleeping in. Sailors bustled around the deck, checking the ropes and doing chores, while cabin boys mopped the deck sparkling clean. There weren't many crew members aboard, but enough to keep the ship up and running.

Captain Serpens was steering the ship and bellowing commands. The wind was getting stronger, nearly knocking poor Mikan over. She latched herself onto the railing of the ship and braced herself.

"Dammit," muttered Natsume. Mikan was much too terrified to comment on this, but she shook her head disapprovingly.

"What's going on?" she whispered. Natsume didn't answer.

Serpens had seen them coming and beckoned Natsume over. He approached him and the Captain nodded his approval.

"There's a storm a'coming, lad!" he shouted over the ferocity of the wind. "You got experience in sailing, boy?" Natsume nodded. "Aye, that's a good 'un. Now, you go and secure the ropes and batten down the hatches." 'Batten down the hatches' was a term used by sailors when preparing for a storm. They cover the hatches with waterproof material and nail on battens (thin pieces of wood) to hold the hatch coverings in place. This keeps rain and waves out of the ship.

Natsume proceeded to do just that, while Mikan approached him cautiously. "What do I do?" she asked. Natsume barked at her to ask the captain. "Who's that?" she asked. He pointed to Serpens, who was having trouble steering the ship.

She walked towards him, keeping an eye on her footing. "Pardon me, sir, but I was wondering what I was supposed to do." Serpens glanced at her.

"What?"

"I was wondering what I was supposed to do."

"What?"

"I said, sir, that—" Mikan's irritable response was interrupted by the pouring rain.

"Damn!" exclaimed Serpens, steering the ship viciously to the right. Mikan nearly fell over, but she gripped a post tightly. He noticed Mikan there clearly, for what seemed like the first time since she had come over. "You, girlie!" he said. "Go down to the kitchens! Help Cook!" He grimaced. "God knows we'll need a decent meal after going through hell and back. If we survive the encounter."

Mikan nodded and headed down the deck stairs. She had entered another hallway this time, and she searched for the entrance to the kitchens.

She looked in almost every door, until she stopped at one at the right side, with a delicious smell wafting from the inside. She beamed. This was the kitchen, no doubt about it.

Opening the door cautiously, she was greeted by pleasant aromas and sounds of tinkering in the kitchen. A large man in an apron that said 'Kiss the Cook' was stirring a large bowl with a wooden spoon. He looked up when he saw her enter.

"Well," he said jovially. "A rookie. Cap said you'd be coming along. Let's see if you've got some cooking in you."

Mikan had taken up some lessons in the culinary arts back in the palace, but she'd never been really good at it.

Cook, wiped his hands on his apron. "I'm Cook. You are?"

"Mi—" she paused. Natsume had told her to make up an alias for herself; she couldn't let anyone know her real name. "Dominique Beauregard." She nodded.

"Nice to meet you, Dominique," beamed Cook. He was a large fellow, with a mop of grey hair on his head and a toothy smile. His hands were covered in white flour and he wiped them again on his apron. "Now, we'd better decide on what to make for dinner. I was thinking of making casserole." Mikan nodded her approval and they started on making it.

"They're a lively bunch, the crew," said Cook, almost fondly. "We'll have to make a big amount to feed their big hives." He chuckled. "All that looting makes a big appetite."

"Looting?" asked Mikan curiously. Cook stared at her disbelievingly.

"You mean you haven't figured it out by now?" He shook his head at her. "You're on a pirate ship, sweetie, with real live pirates."

* * *

**I feel so relieved to have finally finished the second chapter of RSS. School is getting more difficult by the day, so I shouldn't really be writing at all, but I am. Writing helps me vent of stress, along with the other wonders it can do. **

**I wrote this chapter in two entirely different places; one of those places was beside a pool on a sunny day with a MacBook, while the other I was stuck in my house, in front of a large iMac. Can you tell which part I wrote in which place? I'll give you a clue: most of the time I used the iMac. **

**Do I have a weird obsession with Macintosh products? Yes, yes I do. **

**The third chapter, well, that won't be coming out so soon. If you know how long I take updating each of my stories, then you know you'll be expecting a long wait. Sigh. Sorry people. **

**Reviews are like chocolate truffles; give me some and I'll give you a hug. ;)**

–_Tearless Sonnet_


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